Chapter Thirteen: Combat in Practice

After Fat Dragon and his gang had left for nearly five minutes, Zhang Wenhao finally struggled to his feet and sat on the grass of the greenbelt. His whole body ached with stabbing pain, but at that moment, anger filled his heart so completely that he hardly felt the pain.

Although Zhang Wenhao had never been a good student, he’d never gone looking for trouble either, but he was by no means a coward who shied away from conflict. He had always abided by the principle of “If others don’t provoke me, I won’t provoke them.” Because of this, he rarely had conflicts with anyone. But today, that Fat Dragon, a stranger he’d never even seen before, had brought his gang to block his way and beat him up. No matter what, Zhang Wenhao couldn’t swallow this humiliation!

He spat out the dirt in his mouth and said coldly to himself, "Fat Dragon, if I don’t pay you back for what happened today, then I’m not worthy of the name my parents gave me!"

He struggled to stand up, took off his jacket and beat the dirt off it, then brushed the remaining mud and shoeprints from his clothes, afraid his parents would notice anything when he got home.

He walked to a car parked by the roadside and checked his reflection in the side mirror. Thankfully, his face was unscathed. As long as he didn’t take off his clothes in front of his parents, they wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

What he feared most was his parents finding out and worrying about him; the pain he felt was nothing in comparison.

He made his way home with difficulty on his bike. As soon as he walked through the door, his father, Zhang Xingping, noticed a large tear in his pants and asked anxiously, "Wenhao, what happened to you?"

Zhang Wenhao quickly replied, "I fell off my bike. Someone left a big rock in the road—I didn’t see it."

His mother hurried out of her room, concern in her voice. "What happened, son? Are you alright?"

Wenhao waved her off. "I was wearing thick clothes, so I’m fine. It’s just a shame about my pants."

His mother relaxed and said, "It’s just pants. We can buy you a new pair this weekend. As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters. The college entrance exams are just around the corner—you must be careful these days. Don’t let any accidents happen."

"Don’t worry, Mom," Zhang Wenhao replied with an embarrassed scratch of his head. "I’ll be more careful from now on. I won’t ride so fast anymore."

Then he said, "Mom, Dad, you should get some rest. I’m going back to my room to study."

…

But Zhang Wenhao didn’t open a book after returning to his room. Instead, he replayed the day’s events in his mind. He had no prior grudge with Fat Dragon, and yet today the man had deliberately blocked his path. Someone must have put him up to it. Moreover, Fat Dragon had mentioned Su Ruoran, warning him to stay away from her. It had to be someone at school who was jealous of how close he’d grown to Su Ruoran lately and wanted revenge.

But for the moment, Zhang Wenhao couldn’t think who the mastermind might be. After all, half the school liked Su Ruoran; anyone could have taken a dislike to him. Only Fat Dragon would know who was really behind it all.

Fat Dragon was a burly guy, twice his size. Wenhao wouldn’t stand a chance in a fair fight, let alone against Fat Dragon’s gang of thugs. He simply didn’t have the strength to deal with them.

Suddenly, Zhang Wenhao thought of the Super Learning System. The system contained many combat skills: free fighting, Sanda, taekwondo, Jeet Kune Do—even a top assassin’s comprehensive skill set. He now had 240 points. If he could redeem even one of these, handling someone like Fat Dragon would be no problem. After all, the system’s skills were all top-notch, and the moment he redeemed one, he would instantly become an expert.

He hurried into the system, his first thought being the top assassin’s comprehensive skill set. But when he checked, he was immediately dumbfounded. That skill set cost fourteen thousand points—almost three times as many as photographic memory!

The price was far too high; there was no way he could afford it.

Disappointed, he considered gambling his points, but he didn’t even have enough for two tries. He knew he’d gotten lucky the last time with photographic memory, and with only 240 points left, losing would mean having no chance at all.

He then examined the individual combat skills and found that most of them required only two hundred points to redeem. Delighted, he looked through them and finally chose practical combat.

There were many forms of fighting, but most had evolved into sports or displays, with little focus on practical use. Practical combat, however, was different—it was designed specifically for real-world confrontation, each move aimed at incapacitating an opponent with maximum efficiency. Soldiers, police officers, bodyguards, assassins, and mercenaries all trained in practical combat.

Without hesitation, Zhang Wenhao redeemed the skill. As soon as the system’s notification sounded, his mind became filled with countless combat techniques, all perfectly mastered within his brain. In an instant, he had become a theoretical grandmaster of practical combat.

He knew he was only a grandmaster in theory. His body lacked the necessary strength, flexibility, and agility; he might know the moves, but he couldn’t execute them. He would need to train his flexibility before he could use many of the techniques.

But now that he had the right methods, Zhang Wenhao knew exactly how to train his flexibility. Stripping down to his underwear, ignoring the bruises covering his body, he began practicing splits on his bed.

He’d thought it would take a long time for his body to catch up to the skills in his mind. But to his surprise, after learning practical combat, his body adapted at a remarkable rate. After just over an hour of practice, he could already do a full split!

His punching speed increased rapidly, his moves growing ever more precise. By the end of the night, not only was he much more limber, but the movement had also loosened his muscles and eased his pain.

Now, with the mind of a combat expert, Zhang Wenhao reviewed the day’s events with a professional eye. Only now did he realize that what had seemed an inescapable group beating was actually full of exploitable weaknesses he could use to turn the tables.

Fat Dragon, for instance, was full of flaws. For one, he was too fat—though strong, he was slow to react and move. Against someone like that, as long as you kept your distance, he would be the one taking the hits.

A plan began to form in Zhang Wenhao’s mind: in the next two or three days, he would improve his fighting proficiency, then find an opportunity at No. 6 High School to take down Fat Dragon and settle the score. After that, he would force out the name of the real mastermind!